I'm sitting in my back driveway, with my phone now at 16%, in 55° weather, not enjoying hot coffee. Thank God for USB in the truck.
Nope, it's an iced Dunkin' (Donuts) Mocha, and my bagels and cream cheese have become store-brand donut holes.
The missus went down to the basement loo yesterday morning to go potty, and came half-screaming up the stairs that the electrical utility wanted to shut the power off, right then and there.
Um, excuse me? We aren't Rockefellers by any means, but we make bills and manage some luxuries here and there.
It turns out that Miss "I'll Do Everything, Watch Me!" tried to pay on-line, couldn't get it to process, said nothing to me, and assumed that it would resolve itself with enough unicorn flatulence fumes and faith in the kindness of karma.
Well, it didn't.
So, she got sent out last night for water, the largest quality cooler our one-horse exurban Mao*Mart could provide, and enough ice for a three-day-weekend frat kegger.
And then she proceeded to be allowed the honor of fridge triage and packing away our perishable victuals. Thankfully, the chest freezer is still languishing, with power, at the other place.
My coffee is nearly gone, my phone is at 27%, the breakers have all been switched off, and it's warmed up to a semi-normal 58° outside here at Chez Veer II.
23 years later, and I think she's starting to get it. I hope. Today we're going to discuss paperwork SOP from here on out.